


broadcast the boom-boom-boom-boom

by Dawn_Blossom



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Dokkalfar!Grima, Dreams and Nightmares, Lucid Dreaming, Other, falling in love through nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawn_Blossom/pseuds/Dawn_Blossom
Summary: Chrom falls in love with the dokkalfar of his nightmares.
Relationships: Chrom/Gimurei | Grima, Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	broadcast the boom-boom-boom-boom

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe it took me this long to think of dokkalfar!Grima... Honestly as soon as the concept hit me, this fic practically wrote itself.
> 
> Title is from [The Louvre](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQkdwymDanE) by Lorde. Honestly there were several lines I considered using for the title, because the song REALLY works for this fic, but in the end, I decided that the boom-boom-boom-boom of a heartbeat provided the best imagery.

For a commander like Chrom, nightmares are only to be expected.

Screams echo on the battlefield of his dreams. This happens every night. The horrific sights are often worse than what the day truly brings, like a gruesome amalgamation of only the very worst parts.

Though it took him ages to figure out that this is his dreamscape, he now recognizes it with some relief. No matter how bad things get here, at least he knows it isn’t real. Nothing here is real.

Except…

There is one thing he recognizes over and over again. Though most of the figures in his nightmares are indistinct and unmemorable, there is always one with eyes he cannot forget.

Their appearance is never the same twice, but Chrom has learned to spot them every time. No one else has such vibrant crimson eyes, let alone ones that gleam with any intelligence.

Tonight, they also gleam with fear.

It’s the first time that Chrom has seen anything like this happen. Usually, Chrom’s mysterious guest is part of an opposing army. This time, however, the enemy ranks are filled entirely with corpses. Now the red-eyed being, wearing the appearance of a black-haired man, stands out as remarkably human.

And the dead have made him their target.

In fact, all the nearby corpses are so focused on him that they are ignoring Chrom entirely. Chrom could take it as a reprieve, could use tonight as a break from the unrelenting onslaught of war… 

But what kind of person would he be if he left someone else to be dismembered?

“That’s enough!” he shouts, rushing forward with his blade. 

The corpses slowly turn in his direction. The other man does, too.

“Why…?” Those red eyes widen.

Chrom takes off the head of the nearest soldier. It dissolves into black smoke, joining the haze of the nightmare.

“You,” Chrom says. He tries to stand protectively in front of the man, but it does little good when the two of them are surrounded from the other side as well. “What’s your name?”

“… You can call me Robin,” the man says. “You…”

“My name’s Chrom,” Chrom supplies quickly. “Er, I… assume you aren’t one of my men…”

“No,” Robin says. “I lead an army of my own. Why… Why did you come over here?”

“To put an end to these fellows,” Chrom says, gesturing towards the corpses. “I thought you might prefer not to join them.”

Robin lets out a sharp laugh.

“You know it doesn’t matter, don’t you?” He shakes his head. “Inside this endless nightmare, the only outcome is torment.”

The corpses keep crawling forward. Chrom slices off the hand of one of them as it comes within his range, but it doesn’t act as much of a deterrent. If he had magic, he could blast them back, but alas… He would never have a useful weapon in this place, anyway.

“How do we stop this?” Chrom asks. “This is, what, some kind of shared plane? It must be if we’re having the same nightmare. And that means there must be a way out.”

“There is no escape from the Dokkalfar’s grip,” Robin says. “You’d have to convince whoever is targeting you to leave you alone. I wouldn’t get my hopes up, if I were you. You’ll break quicker, then even your real body will die… Though if you do truly wish to stop returning to the nightmare, perhaps that IS your best option.”

“No,” Chrom says. “Every day I fight, and every night I dream of fighting. It is hell. But there is something on the other side I must fight for. I cannot give in. Is it not the same for you and your army?”

Robin grimaces. 

“Violence begets violence,” he says. “We don’t have a choice. If I could end it all, I would.”

“Someday my war will be over,” Chrom says. “Someday your war will be over, too. If we live to see the other side, then we can put an end to the violence. We can build a world of peace.”

“Do you really believe your own words?” Robin asks. “What is a ‘world of peace’? The only world I’ve ever seen… looks just like this.”

A pallid hand reaches through the haze. Closing his eyes, Robin throws his arm outward. From his hand shoots a blast of electrical magic, frying the soldier back into smoke.

“It never ends,” Robin says. “This is just a fantasy. Humans are the true terrors.”

He sounds so tired. Deep inside, Chrom is tired, too. But if he gives up, everything he’s done will have been for nothing.

“Robin…” Chrom squeezes Robin’s hand. “Even if it doesn’t do any good, I’m going to keep fighting. Maybe we’ll be right back here tomorrow, but at least we’ll be alive to see it. I’ve got your back, okay?”

“Do what you will,” Robin replies. If there is any emotion in his voice, Chom can’t read it.

And yet...

It’s faint, but Chrom is sure that he feels his hand being squeezed back.

* * *

The next time Chrom sees Robin in his nightmares, he doesn’t waste any time.

“Hey!” she cries as he grabs her by the hand. This time, her light brown hair is pulled up behind her in a large ponytail, but Chrom can’t mistake her eyes. “You scum! I’ll kill—”

“Robin, it’s me!” he shouts. 

Even though it wouldn’t be the first time he was stabbed in a nightmare, he’d hate for it to be over a misunderstanding.

“Chrom…?” Robin grimaces. “How did you know it was me? In dreams, I, er…”

“Just because you change your looks doesn’t mean you change who you are,” Chrom says. “I’ve… watched you for a while, actually. Sorry I never said anything. I didn’t want to confront you if you were an enemy.”

Robin laughs incredulously.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she says. Her gaze slowly shifts to their entwined hands. “You’ve literally delivered yourself into my hands. If I felt like killing you…”

Chrom winces.

“Save it for the nightmare soldiers,” he says. “Speaking of which… Is it just me or are they all turning into dragons?”

“There aren’t that many manaketes still alive,” Robin says. “But in the realm of nightmares, that doesn’t matter. These things are vicious.”

“I suppose that explains why my sword has been replaced with a tree branch,” Chrom says, sighing. “My sword is known for its dragon-slaying abilities, so…”

“Of course,” Robin says. “The dokkalfar who brought you here didn’t do so to watch you excel.”

“It couldn’t have simply been to watch me get eaten, either,” Chrom says. “Else why give me a weapon at all?”

“You’d probably just start fistfighting the dragons,” Robin says. “And who would want to witness that?”

Chrom laughs. A real, genuine laugh.

It’s a strange thing to do in a nightmare, he realizes.

“Stop that!” Robin admonishes, looking over her shoulder. “Do you want to draw attention to yourself?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chrom says, but he’s still smiling. With Robin’s hand still in his, he tugs for her to come closer. “Listen, our best plan probably is to lie low, but…” A loud screech carries through the air. “But seeing as most of them can fly overhead, I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Have we not established that this isn’t supposed to be a comfortable dream?” Robin scoffs.

“Yes, but I WAS given a tree branch,” Chrom says. “Horribly unwieldy, leafy thing. And I intend to use it.”

“… Where are you going with this?” Robin looks a little more interested now.

“As a weapon, it’s worthless,” Chrom says. “But as camouflage, it’s a little more valuable. Maybe. Er, I hope.”

Robin laughs, then quickly bites down on her lip as though she’s aware of the hypocrisy.

“I didn’t think about that,” she says. “From high in the sky, it might be difficult to distinguish us if we stay still. Oh, I have got to see this in action.”

“Great,” Chrom says. “Because I was hoping you could lie down on top of me…”

Seeing Robin’s incredulous look, he flushes slightly.

“Only because your hair color is less conspicuous,” he says. “Besides, we’re half a step from embracing as it is. This won’t be any harder.”

One of his hands is already holding Robin’s. He takes her other hand and smiles.

“It can’t be worse than jumping head-first into a dragon’s arms, right?” he says.

“Right,” Robin echoes, staring once again at the way their fingers intertwine.

* * *

In a pitch-black nightmare, Chrom cannot tell whether or not he is alone.

The sounds of a forest surround him. He dares not call out, for who knows what would answer him? But when he feels a brush of skin nearby, he reaches out.

“Robin?” he whispers.

“… Are you stupid?” they answer back. “You can’t even see…”

“Your skin is warm,” Chrom says. “The other creatures in the nightmare never feel warm-blooded. I took the chance.”

Robin lets out a hushed sigh.

“There’s not a speck of light in this place, so don’t expect your eyes to adjust,” they say. “My magic allows me to… sense some things, in a way. There are wild beasts lurking, as well as several hunters. They cannot see, either. Between the two groups…”

Chrom understands. He may get ripped apart tonight. No matter how many times it happens, he always wakes to fight his war, and the next night he is sent back to the nightmare once again. The experience does not get more pleasant with time.

He squeezes Robin’s hand and feels them move closer.

“Any plans?” they ask.

“Let me know when they come close,” Chrom says. This time, he has the Falchion with him. “I know the battlefield like the back of my hand. I could fight with my eyes closed. I can do this, too.”

“You’re not even frightened?” Robin asks.

Chrom grimaces, not that anyone can see it. Of course he’s frightened. He’s only human. He doesn’t want to be attacked, even if the damage doesn’t stick.

“I’m merely used to it,” he says. “In the waking world, I’m known as somewhat of a hothead… A man like me has to learn how to think clearly with a hammering heart.”

“So you don’t even give in to yourself…” Robin murmurs. “Will nothing at all break you?”

Chrom thinks back to what started all of this, to the assassins swarming his home, to his sister’s dead body…

“You can’t break what’s already been shattered,” he says. “I… I have to keep going. To stop others from suffering the same fate.”

Robin is quiet for a moment. Their thumb rubs a circle on the back of Chrom’s hand. A mindless action from one always full of thought.

“How miserable,” they say at last.

A beast howls in the distance, and Chrom does not dare speak another word.

* * *

“You know it doesn’t matter how much I bleed, right?” Robin sits on the floor, the strips of cloth wrapped around his arm as red as the shade of his hair tonight. “You’re playing right into their trap. The commander only let us take this old church so he could make his troops surround it.”

“I don’t care,” Chrom insists. “They always end up surrounding us! I know I’m no healer, but the least I can do is physically patch up your injuries… There’s no need for you to suffer more than necessary…”

“Chrom…” Robin catches Chrom’s hand. “Without any magic or medicine, this cloth won’t do me any good…”

“Sorry,” Chrom says. Staring into Robin’s eyes, he feels… He can’t help but feel…

So useless.

“H-Hey,” Robin says. “After all I’ve seen you do, I know a little blood isn’t your weakness. So why…?”

Why are tears pooling in Chrom’s eyes?

“Maybe it’s only because I haven’t slept well for years that I can’t hold it in,” Chrom says. “But seeing you hurt… It’s the worst thing that could happen in this place. Nothing else is real, but you… You feel the pain, just like I do…”

“Of all the things to bring you down…” Robin shakes his head. “Don’t cry for me… Only a fool would dare cry for me. Never… Never has anyone…”

Chrom can’t take it. He envelops Robin in a hug, careful not to press against any wounds.

“Can I not weep for my only companion in this perpetual nightmare?” he asks. “I cannot keep you safe… There is no safety in this realm. But as long as you are here, I will do everything in my power to protect you. Even if it doesn’t do any good…”

A sound like breaking glass comes from the front of the church. They are never allowed more than a moment’s respite before the fighting must start again.

Chrom stands up, his sword at the ready. Robin is still on the ground, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“What are the chances that I can keep them out of here?” Chrom asks.

Robin doesn’t respond.

Chrom grimaces.

“We’ll find out,” he says. 

“Chrom, wait. I…” Though Chrom turns around at Robin’s words, it is only in time to see him put his head in his hands. “No… It’s nothing. Go fight. It’s all you can do.”

And so Chrom goes. The nightmare is never satisfied until he bleeds.

“Why did I have to meet a person like you…?” Robin whispers just before the door closes behind Chrom.

Chrom is not sure that he was supposed to hear it. He wants to turn back around, but he knows he must take his pounding heart and run in the other direction.

“There’s the sorry cur!” an enemy soldier shouts. A chorus of battle cries follow.

When Chrom wakes in the morning, he doesn’t know which one dealt the final blow.

In fact, strangely, he doesn’t remember feeling a final blow at all.

* * *

Even in this sandstorm, even with the woman in its center having her eyes closed, Chrom is sure it’s Robin.

Her white twintails, dirtied with sand, whip wildly in the wind. The coat she wears flutters around her, and Chrom cannot tell whether her feet are even on the ground.

She is not the only one screaming, but hers rings out the loudest. The city around them is getting destroyed. Debris flies everywhere. People run to escape, but the wind and sand tears at their skin and fills their lungs. It is a slow, painful destruction.

All Chrom has to protect him is a rusted shield. It’s heavy enough to keep him on the ground as he makes his way towards the center of the storm.

“Robin!” he calls. “Robin, can you hear me?”

With the selective omniscience of a dreamer, he is certain that this storm is his fault. Robin is inside it, suffering, all because of him…

It’s the worst nightmare yet. What pain would he not bear himself for the sake of those he’s fighting for? But there is no greater agony than seeing someone you care for suffer, knowing you cannot stop it.

“Robin!” he shouts again. 

The roar of the storm makes it hard to hear his own words; he is not sure he has any chance of them reaching Robin like this. Even standing in front of her, with her eyes closed, she will not hear him.

“How do we stop this?” he asks weakly, though he knows no one will answer him.

Perhaps the nightmare is truly, utterly unstoppable. If that is so, then there is only one thing left to do.

Chrom throws his shield to the ground. If he cannot save Robin, then he will join her.

He grabs her hands. He does not know if their combined weight is enough to keep them from being carried off into the air, but it doesn’t matter. Wherever the nightmare takes them, they will be together.

“Ch-Chrom?” Robin gasps, her eyes fluttering open at the brush of his skin against hers. “You didn’t… flee…?”

“Without you?” He chuckles humorlessly. “How could I?”

Robin scowls.

“Damn it,” she says. “Can’t you stop being so selfless for once? This is a nightmare! Stop worrying about me and think about yourself! You’re scared, tired, and helpless, aren’t you? Why do you keep going on so bravely? What is the point?”

“Selfless?” Chrom echoes. “Who’s being selfless? I want a better life for my loved ones… I’d do anything to see it. That’s the point.”

Robin lets out a strangled cry.

“I hate people like you!” she says. “Always talking about peace and love like it’s supposed to help you!”

Chrom opens his mouth to reply, but before he can make a sound, Robin crushes her lips against his.

The storm around them grows more intense. Like it’s responding to Robin’s emotions. Like it’s…

Like it’s her storm.

It’s a truth he suspected long ago. Why were only the two of them real? Why would a dokkalfar target two people who had never even met in the same nightmare? 

But it doesn’t matter to him. Even if Robin is causing his nightmares, she’s also suffering from them. Maybe he is powerless to stop it. Maybe even she is powerless to stop it. But does that mean he cannot do anything at all? His nightmares are better than his dreams have ever been, all because Robin is real and by his side.

“Robin, I love you,” he says when she frees his tongue. “There is no one I would rather face my nightmares with.”

“Chrom, I…” Robin meets his gaze. “I never thought I would meet someone who would make me wish…” 

She sighs.

“Will you close your eyes?” she asks. 

Chrom cannot deny her. He squeezes his eyes shut. The shape of the figure he is holding onto shifts into something new and somehow more delicate.

Robin’s lips brush against his again, this time gentle and all too brief.

“Chrom,” they whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Chrom opens his eyes, ready to grant forgiveness.

But there is no one in his arms. The sandstorm-ravaged city is gone, replaced with a grassy field under a full moon. The only thing in front of him is a cloud of shimmering dust.

“Robin?” He calls out. “Wait—”

He wakes to the morning light.

“WAIT!” he shouts, to the fright of several Shepherds.

* * *

Chrom’s dreams are no longer plagued by violence. On the contrary, they are filled with sunlight, flowers, and sweets, as though he had suddenly regained his childhood innocence amidst the war still going on around him.

But these pleasant dreams trouble him. Robin is nowhere to be found.

Chrom must be a twisted man to long for nightmares. But the truth is, his days of war are still hell, and his nights of saccharinity soothe nothing. And now that he is lovesick, and for someone no one else in his army has ever seen at that, there is a perpetual ache in his heart that has him feeling worse than the perpetual nightmare ever did.

Chrom does not give up so easily, though.

It takes some time for him to get a lucid grasp on his dreams. Just as it took him many nightmares before he could do anything but swing his sword uselessly against an infinite horde of enemies, it is months before he is able to pause, teeth halfway into the sweet flesh of a plum, and say…

“This isn’t what I want!”

The fruit falls to the ground, then disappears. The dreamscape around him darkens from day to night. The moon shines, full as it was the time Robin vanished.

But recreating the scene does not bring Robin back.

Chrom tries again the next night. He brings to mind the church they once sheltered in. He is alone in it.

He tries over and over again. He thinks of all the places they used to meet. Nothing works. He can create enemy soldiers, dragons, and beasts as terrifying as the ones he faced with Robin. But just like those nightmare illusions, these are not real.

Of course he cannot ever hope to create Robin. Even if he can recall their eyes perfectly, he would not recreate them here, where they too would be lifeless.

“Lost, whelp?” says the commander Chrom accidentally made in Gangrel’s image. “Crying for your precious big sister? Or did you start trailing after someone else?”

Chrom grits his teeth, bringing his sword out on reflex. Even though he is used to lucid dreaming, his control still slips sometimes. Especially when it comes to this man…

“You think you can beat me?” Gangrel asks. “You never have before! In fact, every day you look more like me! Did you know that, Your Graceling? Soon they won’t be able to tell the difference between us! How about that, two Mad Kings!”

“That… isn’t true.” Chrom growls. “You aren’t even real! You’re a nightmare! I made you!”

“No, I made YOU!” Gangrel says, cackling. “You know I’m right! Who would you be if I hadn’t killed big sis for you? You’re going crazy fighting for her! But go ahead and kill me! Watch yourself take my place! Unless you’re too scared? I’m willing to let sleeping dogs lie… in a ditch!”

“No… That will never happen,” Chrom says, though his heart hammers in his chest. No matter what toll the war takes on him, he would never go as far as Gangrel… Would he? How far _would_ he go?

Gangrel cackles again.

“You should see the look on your face!” he says. “You can’t stand it! You’re too afraid to fight or to run away! All you can do is sit there while everyone you know gets picked off one-by-one in your name!”

“Shut up!” Chrom shouts.

The sky above them rumbles with thunder.

“What…” Lightning flashes. “… the hell are you saying?”

A vortex of wind and blue flowers slams into Gangrel. The petals dig into his chest like daggers, killing him in seconds.

“Chrom…” A familiar voice comes from overhead. “Why are you here?”

Chrom looks up to a sight more gorgeous than any he has ever seen before. Robin’s appearance is not too different than it was the last time they met. Their red eyes are exactly as he knows, and they are wearing the same coat that Chrom kissed them in. Their white hair is shorter, but the biggest difference, of course, is the pair of wings sprouting from their back. Blue towards their back melts into violet, then magenta at the tips. 

Poets clutch their hearts trying to describe such beauty. Chrom, who has never been a master of language, has no chance. 

“Robin,” he says breathlessly, reaching his hands out towards the sky. “I found you.”

“Chrom… I thought you would figure it out…” Floating down, Robin takes his hands. “What I am… What I was doing to you… Why would you search for me?”

“And I thought you understood,” Chrom says. “I don’t rest so easily when it comes to the ones I love.”

“So you brought nightmares upon yourself?” Robin shakes their head. “I thought the Ljosalfar were making things up at first, telling ridiculous tales about a human who kicked them out and decided to terrorize his own sleep. But it was you all along.”

“If I can only see you in my nightmares,” Chrom says, “then I will welcome them gladly.”

“No!” Robin cries. “I am Grima, the dokkalfar of violent dreams! I deliver such nightmares to mortals. You cannot find me by inflicting the misery yourself!”

“And yet you are here now,” Chrom says with a smile. “Robin… Er, can I still call you Robin?”

“… You can. It was a name I used to go by when I was… young,” Robin says. “But… Chrom, you shouldn’t act like—”

“Robin, I missed you so much.” Chrom squeezes their hands. “Please don’t leave again. Promise me you won’t…”

“But I don’t want to make you suffer anymore!” Robin grimaces. “That illusion of yours… Whatever you may fear, nothing he said was true. I deliver dreams to people like him, not you. I was wrong before… I was wrong to think that every human with a weapon desires to use it for evil. I only see humanity’s violent desires… You are the only one who has ever reached out to me to show me otherwise.”

“My nightmares are sweet as long as you are in them,” Chrom says. “And without you, I have known no peace. Don’t leave for my sake. Now who’s being too selfless?”

Robin smiles somewhat sheepishly. Chrom’s heart pounds, but only love, not fear, fills his veins.

“Promise you won’t disappear this time?” he asks, his breath grazing Robin’s cheek.

“Huh? Oh…” Robin closes their eyes. “I promise…”

Chrom kisses them. It is a passionate kiss, full of all his pent-up desperation. But more importantly, it is a happy kiss, full of all the joy he feels at even sharing the same space as his love.

“Ah, Chrom…” Robin whispers. “I forgot to say it before… I love you.”

* * *

“Milord…”

Chrom looks up from his reports, startled by Frederick’s abrupt entrance so late. It must be important, but Chrom cannot help but be disappointed at the thought of delaying his sleep even further.

“There is someone demanding to see you,” Frederick continues. “They claim their name is Robin. I have never seen this person before—”

Chrom is already running outside.

“Where are they?” he asks. “Robin? I—”

“Chrom!”

Faster than lightning, Robin is in his arms.

“I don’t understand,” Chrom says. “Is this another dream?”

Robin’s wings are hidden away, but their appearance is otherwise the same as it has been for months now.

“The Dokkalfar have the power to make nightmares a reality,” Robin says, their red eyes gleaming. “Are you happy to see me? I thought I could enlist as your tactician… We could fight together, like we used to.”

“My love, this is… You are… literally a dream come true!” Chrom exclaims. “Of course I’m happy! I’ve never been happier!”

Robin smiles.

“That’s all that matters to me.”


End file.
